Compared with the mild-appearing, heavily whiskered Cap'n Abe, this
brother of the storekeeper was in looks what Betty had pronounced him.
His dark complexion, the long mustache, as black and glossy as a crow's
wing, the gold rings in his ears, with the red handkerchief to top it
all, made Cap'n Amazon Silt as romantic a figure as ever peered out of
a Blackbeard or a Henry Morgan legend.
There were intricate traceries on his forearms in red and blue ink;
beneath the open collar of his shirt the girl gained a glimpse of other
tattooing. There was a faint scar traced along his right jaw, almost
from ear to chin, which added a certain grimness to his expression.
Yet his was not at all a sinister face. His eyes twinkled at her
kindly--almost like Cap'n Abe's eyes--and the huge mustache lifted in a
smile.
"Ahoy!" he cried jovially. "So this is my niece, Louise, is it? Well,
to be sure! Abe didn't overpraise you. You _be_ a pretty tidy craft."
The girl dimpled, coming forward to give him her hand. As on the day
before, her hand was lost in a warm, firm clasp, while her uncle
continued to look her over with approval.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97